A hint of chill,
A wisp of crispness
in the air.
A gentle breeze,
Just slightly cold.
An achy joint,
If you are old.
The geese are flying
And clouds are lying
in lazy drifts —
Their white belying
The darker clouds to come.
We pull the sweaters
From our dressers —
the furnace on.
The harvest dawn —
The crops are gathered
And birds are scattered.
What is the reason
For changing seasons?
To keep awake
And not to take
for granted —
The wonder of creation.
Bird songs billowing from the hedges,
From meadows, grasses, trees and sedges.
Twitter, toot, and hoot, and tweet,
Their song and melody so sweet.
Flowers timid peep from ground;
Will the warmth still be around?
Frogs in creeks at night do croak,
Parents take walks with little folk.
The sun can warm us as we walk,
But clouds are good to cool us off.
Still a chill in morning air,
But new life battles all our cares.
[Headline – Four homeless persons found dead from
hypothermia in recent freezing weather]
On cold and dreary winter night,
He pulled the blanket tighter still,
And tried to push the winter chill
Away from heart and soul – such fright.
Under the bridge
He found his place,
Away from prying passerby,
Away from passing, moaning wind.
He did not find the warmth he sought
And shivered uncontrollably.
That was the night
He fought and lost
His battle with cold destiny.